Part 43 (1/2)

She stopped and motioned Burr to do the same.

Someone, she realized, was swimming in the lake. Was it Mr. Craycroft? Was he back in residence?

A man emerged from the water-a man who most definitely was not Mr. Craycroft.

And who was most definitely naked.

Her eyes widened as she drank in the sight of his long, powerfully graceful form, his skin glistening with wet in the sunlight.

A quiet sigh of wonder slid from between her parted lips, her senses awash with the same kind of reverent awe she felt whenever she beheld something of pure, unadorned beauty.

Not that his face was the handsomest she had ever glimpsed-his features were far too strong and angular for ordinary attractiveness. Yet there was something majestic about him, his tall body exquisitely proportioned, even the unmentionable male part of him that hung impressively between his muscled thighs.

Clearly unaware that he was being observed, he casually slicked the water from his hair with his fingers, then walked deeper into the surrounding area of short gra.s.s that was kept periodically trimmed by the groundskeepers.

She s.h.i.+vered, her heart pounding wildly as she watched him settle onto the soft green canopy of gra.s.s and stretch out on his back. With a hand, she motioned again to Burr to remain quiet. She did the same, knowing if she moved now, the beautiful stranger would surely hear her.

One minute melted into two, then three.

Quite unexpectedly, she heard the soft yet unmistakable sound of a snore.

Is he asleep?

She smiled, realizing that's exactly what he was.

She knew she ought to leave; this was the perfect chance. But then he s.h.i.+fted, his face turning toward her, one hand resting at his waist, his knee bent at an elegant angle.

And she couldn't leave.

Not now.

Not when she was in the presence of such artistic majesty-as if the universe itself had given her a gift. How could she refuse the opportunity? She simply had to draw him.

Without giving the impulse so much as another moment's consideration, she sank quietly onto a nearby rock that provided her with an excellent view of her subject. Burr settled down next to her and laid his chin on his paws as she extracted her pencil and sketchbook from her bag and set to work.

Gabriel Landsdowne came abruptly awake, the late afternoon sun strong in his eyes. He blinked and sat up, giving his head a slight shake to clear out the last of the drowsy cobwebs.

He'd fallen asleep without even realizing. Apparently, he was more tired than he'd thought. Then again, that's why he'd come here to Craycroft's, so he could spend a little time alone, doing nothing more strenuous than taking a leisurely swim and lazing away the day. He could have done the same at his own estate, of course, but the place always put him in a foul mood.

Too many bad memories.

Too many unwanted responsibilities to ignore.

His usual crowd would laugh to see him doing something as prosaic as taking a solitary afternoon nap. On the other hand, he was out of doors naked, so they would most certainly approve of that.

Smirking, he stood up, brus.h.i.+ng an errant blade of gra.s.s from his bare b.u.t.t. He was about to cross to the stand of bushes where he'd left his clothes when he heard a faint rustling sound behind him. He turned and stared into the foliage.

”Who is it? Is someone there?” he demanded.

The only answer was silence.

He looked again, but nothing moved; no one spoke.

Maybe it had been the wind?

Or an animal foraging in the woods?

Suddenly a dog burst from the concealment of the trees, its s.h.a.ggy wheaten coat gleaming warmly in the sun. The animal stopped and looked at him, eyes bright and inquiring but not unfriendly. He seemed well fed but was of no particular breed, a medium-sized mix of some sort. Part hound and part something else.

”Who might you be, fellow?” Gabriel asked.

The dog wagged his tail and barked twice, then spun around and disappeared into the trees once more.

Just then, Gabriel thought he spied a flash of blue in the woods.

A bird?

The dog must have sensed it too and had gone off to chase whatever it was.

Shrugging in dismissal, Gabriel turned and went to retrieve his clothes.

”It's high time you were home, my lady,” Grumbly scolded as Esme hurried into her bedroom a couple of minutes after the dressing gong rang. ”I was on the verge of sending one of the footmen out after you. Och, and look at those boots. What new mischief have you been about this afternoon? Tromping in the mud.”

”Oh, don't carry on, Grumbly,” Esme said, using the maid's old nickname given to her when Esme was still in ap.r.o.n strings. ”I went for a walk, then stopped at the stables afterward to check on Andromeda. Her wing is still healing and she needs food and exercise twice a day.”

Andromeda was a hawk Esme had found in the woods last month, shot with an arrow. She'd nursed her through the worst and hoped the bird might be able to fly again with enough time and care.

Mrs. Grumblethorpe tsked and turned Esme around, her fingers moving quickly to unfasten the b.u.t.tons on Esme's dress. ”You and your animals. Always worrying over some poor, misbegotten creature. Rabbits and birds, hedgehogs and box turtles. You're forever dragging something back, to say nothing of all the cats and dogs and horses.”

Three of Esme's cats-all strays she'd rescued-lay snoozing in various locations around her room, including a big orange male, Tobias, who was curled up on a cozy spot in the middle of her bed. Her maid didn't approve, but she'd given up that battle long ago.

Burr, who had trailed in with Esme when she'd returned, lay stretched out in front of the unlit fireplace hearth. He snored gently, clearly tired after their recent adventures.

Esme thought again of the splendid naked man at the lake and the drawings of him that were now inside her sketchbook.

A flush rose on her skin.

She thought too of how he'd almost caught her as she'd been leaving. Good thing he'd a.s.sumed the noise she'd inadvertently made was Burr.

Good old Burr.

Who was the stranger? she wondered not for the first time. Certainly no one who lived in the neighborhood. She would have remembered a man like him. Peculiar, though, that he seemed oddly familiar, as if she had seen him somewhere before. She'd thought and thought and just couldn't place him.

Oh, well, it would come to her-or not. She wouldn't concern herself. After all, it wasn't as if she were likely to see him again, let alone be introduced.

She didn't have time to ruminate further as Grumbly removed her dress and half boots and sent her over to the washbasin to tidy herself for dinner.